


Buzzcut Season

by jamesmarchant (orphan_account)



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Fake Chop, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Road Trips, if thats a trope laskdjf, strangers to friends to lovers?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-25 17:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14383137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jamesmarchant
Summary: James had so many opportunities to leave. To get out of this business, stop killing and looting and running from cops. He’d wanted to up and run for so fucking long, now.orIn which James finds out he isn’t the only one sick and tired of being sick and tired.





	1. i guess you're lucky that it's dark now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been working on this for too fucking long. straight up. its about damn time i get it out for yall to read.  
> this whole thing is pretty heavily inspired by the fake chop writing of personalized-radio and myriadus, so if you somehow have never read their work PLEASE PLEASE DO, you wont regret it!! also, huge shoutout to my friends on discord for proofreading for me :')  
> alrighty, enough blabbering, i hope you enjoy!

The car rattled and jumped, tossing James to and fro as he pulled it off of the freeway and into a gravel parking lot framing a tiny brick building and an equally tiny grass field.

The rest stop looked pretty much the exact same as all the other rest stops he’d taken a piss at since they started driving, but this one ultimately had a different feeling given the pink sky stretched above him as the sun dragged it’s feet going to sleep. James parked the car and shut off the engine, then sat for a moment in the silence and watched the sunset happen. He watched how the pink-orange sky tinted the brick wall in front of James, and how the light cast shadows across the poorly-tamed patches of grass surrounding it. 

And… there it was. A feeling unique to being in an unfamiliar place that you’ve seen a million times before. Like walking into the same chain grocery store but a city or two away from home, or going somewhere you have fond memories of and discovering every change that occured over the years to make the place foreign again.

James didn’t really want to call this… this  _ thing _ they’re doing a ‘roadtrip’, but he can’t deny that it feels like one. 

His right leg, practically dead asleep from doing nothing but step on the gas pedal for the last three fuckin’ hours, agrees with that sentiment. 

The silence stretched for a few more moments, James calmly watching as pin-prick stars made themselves known in the darkening sky, up until a hissed breath and the sound of shifting fabric came from the backseat.

James didn’t turn, but he felt a grin split across his face as he said, “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

He got a muffled  _ fuck off _ in response, sounding quite like it had been grumbled right into the seat cushions, but James pushed on, “It’s, like, 8pm. I’m gonna go take a piss and then we should find somewhere to get food.” he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door, letting the ambience of the freeway and woods nearby flood into the car. Before he closed the door behind him he leaned his head back in and said, “If you gotta pee, here’s your chance, dude.”

James shut the door and turned away before he heard any response, but as soon as he was plopped right back into near silence he regretted that decision. The crickets and frogs singing somewhere out in the forest were pretty, calming for James most nights, but right now he longed just a little for a voice that  _ wasn’t  _ an overly enthusiastic radio dj or something. 

Still, he shook himself and plodded on, gingerly walking through the gravel parking lot and making his way into the filthy, dim bathroom. He did his business quickly, and was halfway through washing his hands when the door creaked open. 

Aleks stumbled into the bathroom, sporting a pair of flip-flops and James’ jacket that he must have stolen from the front seat. His hair was flattened comically from where it had been pressed into their throw pillows in the backseat, and he was rubbing at his eyes as he approached James.

James watched through the mirror as Aleks came to stop at James’ back, plopping his forehead between James’ shoulder blades and leaning heavily against him. James raised an eyebrow but didn’t push him off, finishing washing his hands and reaching up to grab a paper towel. As he did, Aleks suddenly wrapped his arms around James’ abdomen to pat at his front pockets.

James let it happen for a few seconds out of pure confusion, then burst out, “Aleks, what’re you-”

“Where’s your wallet?” Aleks interrupted, and since he found nothing in James’ pockets his arms fell back to his own sides.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s a vending machine.”

James let out an incredulous laugh, “Aleks, are you kidding me? I just told you we were gonna grab food next.”

“Doritos are food.” Aleks mumbled, and the pause before he said it told James that he was only saying it to be contrary.

James rolled his eyes but was unable to keep the grin off his face, “Oh my fucking god - you can get chips wherever we stop for food, man.”

Aleks grumbled, his face still pressed against James’ back, but didn’t move to argue any further. 

A moment passed in quiet, nothing but the drip of the tap and their breathing echoing against the tiles. Aleks was still leaning heavily against James, who stood with his wrists draped on the rim of the sink for lack of anywhere else to go. Half of James wondered if Aleks had fallen back to sleep standing up, but was proven wrong when Aleks shifted, pressed a little harder into James’ back before he spoke. 

“Do you want me to drive for a while?” James couldn’t help laughing at that, and finally pushed back at Aleks, making the other take a step back so James could turn and face him. When he did he raised an eyebrow, giving Aleks an exaggerated once over and waving vaguely at his disheveled clothes and slumped posture. 

“Yeah, you sure look awake enough to drive.” Aleks’ nose scrunched up at his words in a way that reminded James of a little kid being told  _ no _ , but he ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that called it  _ cute. _

“Hey, fuck you too, buddy.” Aleks said testily, but James just rolled his eyes in response and started walking towards the door.

“Take your piss, I’ll be at the car.” James said, pulling his sleeve over his hand so he didn’t have to actually touch the door handle. 

“What, you’re leaving me alone in here? What if some psycho comes in and hacks me to bits while my dick’s out, huh? Some friend you are!” Aleks rambled at James.

James smirked, not pausing in his way out the door as he called back into the bathroom, “You’ve got four knives on your person at any time and we both know that, Aleksandr.”

The door shut behind James with a  _ clunk, _ muffling the ‘ _ touch _ é _!’ _ that Aleks yelled after him. 

James huffed a laugh into the cooling air, making his way back to the car. His legs still felt stiff and half-numb from sitting for so long, so instead of getting back into the driver’s seat he leaned back against the door and flipped idly through his phone. 

Staring back up at him accusingly were the hundred unread messages and phone calls he’d heard the phone exploding from while it had sat on the passenger seat during the drive. James squashed the little stir of anxiety the numbers caused, instead opening up twitter and scrolling without really reading anything. A few minutes must have passed, but James didn’t really notice them. The night around him had gotten damn cold before he realized it, and a shiver went up his spine when a gust of wind suddenly blew past.

The crunch of footsteps on gravel made James look up to find Aleks, his hands buried in the pockets of James’ jacket. As he approached the teasing glint came back in his warm brown eyes, and once he stopped just a few feet in front of James he quipped, “You feeling cold?” 

James raised an eyebrow and tightened the hug he had on himself for warmth, “You know, now that you mention it, yeah, I  _ am _ cold.” Aleks came up to lean against the car to James’ left, a shit-eating grin never leaving his face. “You have any idea where my jacket went?” 

“No clue, dude.” 

James couldn’t help smiling back when Aleks had that toothy grin directed at him, so he covered it up by turning, opening up the driver’s door and getting in without a word. He heard Aleks huff a laugh before he closed the door, and watched Aleks make his way around the car, a gentler version of the grin still on his face.

Aleks fiddled with the radio as James pulled out of the dimly lit parking lot and onto the equally dim freeway, squinting to read the signs along the road that advertized the nearest fast food stops. 

“Is McDonald’s okay?” James said, already pulling into the exit lane. Aleks hummed in agreement and settled into the seat, pulling his legs to his chest and leaning his back against the door. 

James drove slow through the tiny town right off the freeway, the radio quiet and the streets nearly empty. It reminded him of the towns he would visit as a little kid going to some extended family member’s house, something just barely inside the realm of suburbia. They passed a gas station with a handful pristine pickup trucks, then a strip mall with a group of something-teens causing a scene on the sidewalk. 

“I dunno how people could be happy living someplace like this their whole lives. Seems so boring.” Aleks said, almost like an afterthought as he looked out the window. 

“I dunno,” James mumbled, “I think old people go here to raise kids who leave home for identical little towns once they get old themselves.” A moment stretched in silence before he continued, “People like us aren’t really supposed to live in places like this, they’re for people who are okay with settling down and gardening or some shit until they kick it.”

Aleks huffed a little laugh at that, then shifted to look at James when he said, “What, you figure neither of us are ever gonna settle down?” 

James laughed, “Aleks, the only time you’re gonna  _ settle _ will be when you’re settling in your grave.” 

Aleks shouted an offended _‘Hey!’,_ sitting up to glare at James, but after a moment they both broke into laughter. 

“Asshole,” Aleks ground out once they quieted down, “I dunno, I’d settle down if I found somebody who’d wanna join me for it. If I was alone I’d rather eat a bullet.” 

“Hey, now,” James said, grinning as he pulled into the drive-through for the dingy McDonalds, “For the moment you’re kinda stuck with me, so don’t go biting any bullets yet.” 

Aleks was surprisingly quiet at that, but James let it be as he rolled his window down and came up to the ordering window. He turned to Aleks to ask what he wanted, and found the other looking back at him with something in his eyes he didn’t know what to call. Something curious, something gentle. James raised an eyebrow and was about to ask what was wrong, but Aleks interrupted him with, “Can I just have a milkshake? I’m not that hungry.” 

“Yeah, sure,” James said easily, and turned to order from the sleep-deprived looking college kid, ordering Aleks a vanilla shake without having to ask what flavor he’d want. He paid and got the food in silence, passing Aleks the shake and plopping the bag of chicken nuggets and fries into his lap. 

James turned back onto the road towards the onramp, and turned up the radio a click or two to expel the blanket of quiet that had come over the car. 

James pulled onto the nearly empty freeway, and slowly but surely a pale hand came into view in the corner of his eye. It slipped into the McDonald’s bag in his lap, then pulled out with a fistfull of fries. James didn’t look at Aleks, but quipped out, “I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“That was before the car smelled like french fries, man.” Aleks said through a mouthful, and James could  _ hear  _ the grin on the other’s face. James rolled his eyes, but moved the bag from his lap to the center console so they both could reach it. 

The car was a more comfortable quiet now, and James let them both sit in the soft music from the radio for as long as he could, but with each passing road sign the question on James’ mind got louder and louder until he couldn’t help but say it.

“Hey, uh, what are we calling this?”

A pause stretched, and James didn’t turn from the road but he could hear Aleks shift a little in the passenger seat. “What do you mean?”

“We,” James stopped, thought hard for a moment, swallowed, and then continued, “We can’t call this a road trip.”

“Why not?”

“Do we look like a suburban white family of four?” James quipped, glancing from the road to shoot Aleks a sharp grin, “Plus, Aleks, we don’t have a damn destination, and we sure as hell aren’t going back to Denver.”

“Fine, fine. It’s not a road trip.” Aleks said, almost exasperated. “We can call it…” He trailed off, humming in thought, and took a drink of his milkshake before continuing, “We can call it a restart. Clean slate, all that bullshit.” His words had a tone of finality, and he leaned back in his seat, tilted his head to look out the window at the cars they were passing. 

James turned to Aleks for just a second, watched him take another long pull of the shake cradled in his palms, watched as what little light coming from the moon and sparse street lights cast shadows all across the interior of the car and Aleks’ face. He looked so fucking far from who he was when they first met, familiar and relaxed as opposed to hard edges and tense shoulders, that James couldn’t help but agree. 

There’s nothing else this  _ could _ be, but a damn well deserved restart. 

\-----

“So,” James said, breaking the silence, “What’s Jordan’s history with this  _ Immortal _ guy?”

James was sat in the expansive arms vault of the creatures office, sitting beside Seamus with a handful of guns in various states of disassembly spread across a metal table in the center of the room. 

Gun cleaning duty certainly wasn’t James’  _ favorite  _ job, but it was necessary. Something about it was cathartic, too; taking the machinery apart completely, polishing it up until it shined, and putting everything back in place. It was second nature at this point as James picked apart his shotgun silence, Seamus doing the same to a pair of pistols at his right. 

Seamus didn’t look up after James spoke, “You mean Aleks? You can say Aleks.”

James sighed and threw himself back in his chair theatrically, “What’s the fucking  _ point _ of having these dramatic pseudonyms if no one ever  _ uses them.”  _

Seamus huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, still not looking at James, “Why the sudden interest? Ya got a crush,  _ Nova?” _

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” James snapped, glaring at Seamus and catching the smirk painted on the other’s face. “I just wanna know why Koots is so determined to snag this guy. It’s all he’s been talking about for the last fuckin’  _ week. _ ”

Seamus sighed at that, putting the final piece of one of the pistols together and setting it aside with a  _ clink  _ as it hits the metal table. “Immortal and Sly were partners forever ago. When Jordan first started the Creatures he picked up Sly and got Immortal by proxy. And it’s a damn good thing, he might not be the easiest person to deal with but he’s a bit of a  _ jack-of-all-trades. _ Real nice to have when your crew is only a handful of months old.”

Seamus picked up the second pistol, unloaded it and started cleaning. “He went dark maybe a year before Dan brought in you and Joe.” He said, almost like an afterthought.

“How come?” James said, idly watching Seamus work. 

Seamus shrugged, “Why does anyone in this business go dark? Paranoia, probably. Apparently he doesn’t like sticking in one place for very long.”

“Who’s to say he’s not just noncommittal.” James grumbled, turning his focus back to the half-assembled shotgun in front of him.

“Could be that, too.” Seamus snickered, “But he would be a shit-ton of help for this next heist.”

James mulled over that as a few more minutes passed, the quiet only broken by the clicks and squeaks of the guns being picked apart and strung back together.

James huffed a laugh suddenly, “You guys really speak highly of this guy.” 

Seamus shrugged, “He’s good at what he does. Jordan let him go once, I doubt he wants it to happen again.” Seamus then gave James a playful swat on his arm, “Thanks for not scaring him away when you first met him.”

James hummed nocommitally, and let the two lapse into silence once again. 

They worked over the guns for maybe another hour. James took his sweet time with his shotty - call him crazy but that gun is his fuckin  _ baby _ \- and was just starting Jordan’s sniper when they got interrupted. 

The arms vault of the office was, frankly, a bit overkill. It was under even the basement of the Creatures’ office, with a two-inch-thick padlocked metal door and matching metal shelves lining the square room, all full to the brim with their various guns, explosives, and miscellaneous stolen goods Jordan wanted under lock and key until they got shipped to their buyers. It was great for business how much the crew had expanded since James got wrapped up in it - but, in his honest opinion, a locked and barricaded closet could get the job done just as well. 

That would be easier to fucking get into, too, and James snickered at the timid knocking that came from the door, paired with Joe’s muffled voice; “Guys? I forgot the combination again.”

James stood and crossed the room, heaving the metal door open to let Joe in. “Not like you weigh enough to get this thing open even if you remembered the combo.” He teased easily. 

Joe laughed lightly at the words, stepping in fully and following James back to the table.

“What’s up?” James said with a heavy sigh as he plopped back into his chair besides Seamus.

“Jordan wanted me to let you guys know that we’re gonna have the first meeting about the heist today.” Joe said, leaning against the wall adjacent to the table. 

James raised an eyebrow, “They’ve got enough of a plan for us to have a meeting about?” He and Seamus exchanged a glance, but he didn’t get the same confused look back that he was expecting. “They announced this heist, what, a week ago?” James continued, exasperated. 

“We’re on a bit of a time crunch here.” Seamus said, “The Fakes aren’t gonna be in the city forever.”

“There’s no use in catching their attention if we fucking blow it because the plan was shit.” James said, licks of something he’ll call anger instead of anxiety flaring up in his stomach.

Joe stayed carefully quiet at the edge of the room while Seamus gave James a vague shrug. “Guess you’ll have to say as much at the meeting, James.” 

James went silent after that, an uncomfortable feeling still stirring in his gut. He grumbled, turning back to the gun in front of him and fiddling with some of the pieces so he didn’t have to look at the others in the room. Out of the corner of his eye James catches Joe shift awkwardly before crossing the small distance, patting James on the shoulder.

“Just, uh, come to the briefing room in an hour, okay?” Joe said, pulling his hand back to stuff in his pockets. 

James relaxed a little but still said nothing. To his side Seamus said a quiet “ _ Thanks, Joe.” _ and James heard Joe’s footsteps retreat towards the door. The door was pushed open with a groan, and then shut heavily to encase James and Seamus back in silence.

The quiet stretched, and did nothing to untwist the knot stuck low in James’ stomach. He scrubbed at the gun in front of him with more force than was necessary, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on doing the cleaning properly through his thoughts.

Jordan was getting ready to fire the crew out towards the sun. They just barely have  _ one _ shot at this, so the errors that James could feel coming might as well be the final nail in the coffin.

James closed his eyes, tried to take a calming breath and quiet the bell ringing somewhere in the back of his skull, but couldn’t smell anything but gunpowder and ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am TENTATIVELY planning on weekly updates...... please bear with me in that department lsdkjflksd
> 
> im @jamesmarchant on tumblr, come say hi!  
> hope you enjoyed <3


	2. we mean it (but i promise we're not mean)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back, one and all! sorry that i couldn't keep to weekly updates, things got busier than i expected and this chapter really dragged it’s feet ;n; ima try my best in the future but! for the moment i hope how long this chapter is makes up for the wait! :D 
> 
> once again, huge shout out to my buds on discord for proofreading, i love yall so much <3
> 
> hope you enjoy!

“You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

Aleks’ toothy grin didn’t falter, “We’re in a fucking 7/11.” He said, picking another piece of popcorn out of the bag in his hand and giving it a half-hearted toss at James’ face.

“Not for long, we aren’t.” James quipped, waving his hand to knock the offending piece of popcorn off it’s course towards his fucking eye. 

Aleks just laughed in response, turning back to the shelves of snacks and ignoring James’ glare. 

After a second James gave up, pushing past Aleks towards the Slurpee machine and giving the other a pointed shove as he went. The momentum caused Aleks to slam right into the shelf, knocking the bag out of his hand and a handful of candy bars to fall to the floor with a clatter.

James turned to find Aleks stood in the pile of candy and popcorn, and watched as he threw his hands up dramatically and said, “ _ Now _ who’s gonna get us kicked out?” James laughed and turned away from Aleks’ glare, deciding easily that if either of them are gonna clean up that mess, it’ll be Aleks. 

It was just the two of them in the store, surprising for the time of day, but James wasn’t complaining all that much. The less people he had to shuffle past awkwardly in the cramped isles, the better.

He filled up a cup with some cherry Slurpee and took a few absent minded drinks of it while he idly paced around the store, waiting for Aleks to stop being so fucking picky about what 99-cent candy bar he was gonna get. The two had stopped for a break from driving about an hour earlier, stopping at some shitty thrift store down the street and fucking around until Aleks caught sight of the 7/11 and begged for a Snickers or some shit, and James bitched the whole walk over but couldn’t deny that the Slurpee really hit the spot.

Aleks came to stand next to James, then, sporting a new bag of popcorn and a ridiculously huge pair of sunglasses stuck on his face, it’s price tag hanging from one of the arms and swinging next to Alek’s cheek. 

He held his hand out to James, raising his eyebrows questioningly, and James rolled his eyes and passed over his Slurpee. James could see Aleks’ face light up even with the sunglasses blocking the way, so he didn’t have the heart to tease that Aleks could get his  _ own _ fuckin’ Slurpee. 

Aleks took a long pull of the drink in his hands, then opened his mouth to say something when the all-too-familiar  _ click, click _ of a pistol being cocked rang out over the static-y background music of the 7/11. 

They both turned to face the front of the store, where the cashier stood with both hands raised behind the register. In front of him were two hooded figures, one holding a pathetic-looking pocket knife and the other wildly waving a banged-up pistol, both of their voices starting to shout indistinctly at the cashier.

James couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the scene, and when he turned Aleks had on a similar expression. Aleks reached up with the hand holding the Slurpee and pushed the dark sunglasses off his face and up into his hair, and then turned as well to make eye contact with James. 

Something passed between them with that look, and James reached into his waistband to pull out the pistol he couldn’t help but keep with him when they left the car while Aleks bent down to pull out a flashy karambit from god-only-knows where. 

In front of them one of the voices rang out with a frankly impressive voice crack, and something in James’ ribs shifted when he connected that the two were probably some punk teen fucks. It made him grip the pistol just a little tighter, and send a glance out to the parking lot for any more of them. To his side Aleks covered up a snicker at the voice crack by taking another pull of the Slurpee before setting it on the floor to free up his hands. 

“Wanna teach ‘em a lesson?” Aleks grinned, giving the knife a twirl.

James shrugged easy, “If we don’t, who will?” 

And then they were moving. 

Aleks ducked into the other isle while James strode forward, coming up behind the kid with the knife and easily disarming him, twisting his wrist back causing the knife to fall to the linoleum with a clatter, and James didn’t hesitate to hook an arm under the kid’s armpit and use that vantage point to toss the kid to the floor and level his pistol with the kid’s face. 

At the same time Aleks practically spider-monkeyed on the other kid, pressing the shiny karambit under his chin and forcing him to go still and tilt his head up to avoid getting a nice little hole in his windpipe. Aleks’ target went stock-still while the kid on the ground scrambled back, as far as he could get away from James up until his back hit the edge of one of the shelves and he couldn’t get any farther. 

“Unload the gun,” Aleks hissed in his target’s ear, and with shaking hands the kid pressed the release on the pistol’s clip, causing the case and the bullets to fall and scatter at their feet. 

James couldn’t help but smirk, the kid had gotten about forty different opportunities to shoot James, but one stern voice and he’s shaking so much he would have missed James by a mile if he could have even pulled the trigger. 

Aleks lessened the pressure of the knife on the kid’s throat a hair’s width, but he me must have seen an opportunity because he suddenly pushed his elbow back into Aleks’ stomach, winding Aleks just long enough for him to wriggle out of the hold, turn on his heel, and bolt for the door. Aleks swore, swiping the knife at the kid’s back but only barely connecting with his shirt, and Aleks only got a step towards the kid before he was out the door.

James rolled his eyes and called out, “Let him go, ‘s not worth the chase.” Aleks huffed in response, crossing his arms and looking out the glass window of the door at the kid tearing ass down the street. 

“Some  _ friend _ you’ve got there, kiddo.” James said, turning back to the teen on the ground, standing over him with shoulders lax but a tight grip on the pistol.

The kid looked up at James with these  _ huge _ eyes that he could practically see his reflection in, and behind that reflection James saw a fear he was all-too familiar with. The fear that came with being so damn out of your depth, so in over your fuckin’ head that there was nothing you could do but run.

The kid must have come to that conclusion at the same time James did, because his gaze flicked from James’ face to his pistol to the receding speck of his friend and back, then he scrambled to his feet and bolted like the devil was at his heels.

Honestly, the devil  _ would  _ have been at his heels, but James decided he’d let the kid go without any more trouble.

The teen reached the door after just a second, and Aleks opened the door for him with a sarcastically gallant bow. The kid startled, but as soon as the door was open wide enough for him to slip out he was as good as gone.

What is it about those kind of kids and being built for being constantly on the run, James thought, recalling all the times Aleks pointed out his own ‘ _ runners legs’ _ , and how James himself had once been a stick-thin, fidgeting and flinching seventeen year old. 

Aleks let the door close after the kid with a  _ crack, _ then he turned to the cashier and clapped his hands together with a heaved sigh, as if he had really done anything all that difficult.

“Teenagers these days, huh?” Aleks said in that lilting, almost teasing voice he used whenever they were -  _ oh. _

Aleks strode over to where the stereotypical black sack sat on the floor in a heap from the first kid dropping it before he ran, and Aleks picked it up and gave it a shake as if he could tell how much was in it from the little rustle the money made. Aleks glanced up through his eyelashes, giving James a  _ look _ , and James got the hint pretty quick. He raised his chin and turned, leveling the barrel of his pistol between the cashier’s eyes. 

The man’s eyes widened almost comically, but James kept his face blank as Aleks turned slowly to the cashier and held out the open bag, “Empty out the second register for me, will ya?” 

The cashier raised his hands slowly and shuffled over to the other register, his wide eyes pinned to James’ pistol. James let Aleks handle the cash, his own eyes never leaving the man’s face. The drawer emptied quickly, and once it was just some loose pennies floating at the bottom of the drawer Aleks retracted the bag and gave the guy a dazzling grin. He turned on his heel, started out towards the door while James followed, letting his pistol stay trained on the cashier’s head up until he reached the door himself and Aleks was already outside. 

Aleks stood on the sidewalk for a moment, let James come up to his side, and then he turned his head down the street one way and then the other and said, “Should we run?”

Behind them the 7/11’s door creaked open once again, and the cashier stepped out with a shotgun secured in his arms.

Aleks looked at James, looked at the shotgun, back at James, and then the both of them took off down the street. 

Shots rang out from behind them and cracked across the pavement at James’ feet, but only long enough for James and Aleks to pass a curve in the street and get out of range of the guy. They didn’t stop running, though, and James’ lungs were starting to burn but he forced himself to keep up with Aleksandr “Gazelle” Marchant. 

James was never all that smart when under the haze of adrenaline, so he really should know to not make quick decisions in these situations. 

Aleks was half a step in front of James when suddenly a truck’s headlights shot right into James’ eyes, blinding him for a second and throwing shadows from Aleks’ body in front of James - why the  _ fuck _ they were  _ running _ in the middle of the damn  _ street,  _ James didn’t know - and in a split-second decision, James grabbed at Aleks’ wrist and tugged them both to the side, slipping himself under the guardrail of the road with Aleks hot on his trail.

Again, James was never all that smart under the haze of adrenaline. The side of the road was much steeper than James had anticipated, and the slide he was expecting very quickly turned into a less-than-graceful tumble downhill. 

He finally thundered to a stop under a throng of bushes along a muddy stream at the bottom of the hill, and he laid there for a moment coughing dirt out of his mouth.

James’ moment to compose himself disappeared very quickly, though, when a second later a certain Russian crashed into his side with a yell. Aleks’ weight landed squarely on James’ abdomen, and he wheezed at the wind being knocked out of him once more. 

Aleks pieced himself together much faster than James could have, pushing himself up on his elbows with a groan, and then glared at James. “What the fuck was  _ that?” _ He yelled. His eyes were wild, and there was mud and grass  _ everywhere. _

And, dammit, James couldn’t help himself. He broke into laughter. The kind of laughter that  _ hurts,  _ and he gasped for air as Aleks pushed himself farther up to now hover over James’ face. His head was still spinning from the fall, but he just  _ couldn’t stop laughing _ . 

“Why are you  _ laughing? _ What the fuck is  _ funny _ about this, James? I nearly got hit by a fucking-” Aleks yelled, before his head suddenly whipped around and he pushed forward to clasp a hand over James’ grin. “Shut up, shut up, shut the  _ fuck up _ ,” He hissed, pressing him and James just a bit farther under the cover of the bushes. James choked back any noise, and he listened intently as the crunch of multiple sets of tires on asphalt came to a peak before, miraculously, passing them by. Aleks stayed there for a full minute, and they both strained their ears for the sounds of voices or more cars approaching.

After another minute of silence, all the air whooshed out of Aleks’ lungs and he slumped forward to rest his head atop James’ chest. James still had a dumb grin on his face and he wheezed out a few more giggles that he couldn’t control now that Aleks wasn’t focusing on shutting him up.

Something in James wanted to be scared. It nagged at the base of his skull, “ _ you should be afraid,” _ and it’s logic was sound, James could admit. They don’t know how to get back to the car, who fuckin’ knows if the cops were called, and it’s getting dark while they’re surrounded by the thick, towering,  _ suffocating _ trees of the forest. 

James should be scared. He doesn’t understand why he isn’t, right up until he remembers the weight of Aleks pressed on his chest. He doesn’t know why, but that explains it to him and shuts up the voice at the back of his mind. 

Aleks lifted his head to give James an incredulous look, his own smile spreading across his face. “I can’t fucking believe that worked.” He said, pushing up once more to hover over James, and he looked around at the fringe of the forest ahead of them, “Where the fuck did we park the car, again?” 

James didn’t say anything in response, just a little too caught up in how Aleks looked. He was framed by the leaves of the forest and the darkening sky, disheveled and sweaty but so very  _ alive _ and so perfectly  _ Aleks _ that he was dumbstruck. 

Aleks turned from the forest to look down at James again. “James?” He questioned, “Did you hit your head or something?”

“No,” James said finally, and he reached up to cup Aleks’ cheeks. He pulled just a little and Aleks went more willingly than James had expected. Their foreheads hit together lightly, and for just a moment they shared the same air. 

Another time, James might have kissed him. It honestly wasn’t something that James had even thought about before, but suddenly kissing Aleks just seemed like second nature, like it could have been as easy as breathing. The solid weight on his chest and the warmth in his palms nearly pushed James over the edge, but the fall didn’t happen. Aleks stayed that miniscule distance away, his own hands pressing against James’ shoulders. James found his voice after a minute, “I’ve got no fucking clue where the car is from here.”

Aleks broke into his own beautiful, hitching giggle at that, choking out, “You’re so fucking useless.” 

James laughed along with him, their laughter making little gusts of breath pass over James’ lips and cheeks. James finally released his hold on Aleks’ face, but he didn’t go all that far. James grinned up at the endearingly fond look on Aleks’ face and teased, “You love me.” 

“You keep telling yourself that.” Aleks shot back, his grin not faltering for even a second. Then, he suddenly flopped over to be on his back to James’ right with a huff. Their arms squished together almost uncomfortably, but neither of them had the energy to scooch away. 

They laid like that for a minute or two, catching their breath. Then James finally heaved himself up to sit, scooting out from under the bushes while Aleks sat up himself. 

“Do you still have the money?” James said, leaning away from Aleks to check the ground around them. 

“Half of it is in the river now, dipshit.” Aleks said with no venom, brushing off a clump of pine needles and dirt from his shirt. 

“The river?” James burst out, jumping to his feet. Sure enough, right over the bushes they were hiding in was a creek, and the bag of cash sat in a heap on the bank, a good chunk of bills floating in circles with the current a few feet away. “ _ Shit, _ ” James hissed, stepping up to the bank and picking up the bag, then standing for a minute staring at the swimming cash, weighing his options. 

Aleks came up to stand at James’ side, and he didn’t hesitate before toeing off his shoes and socks, wading into the shallow water and yelping out a high-pitched, “Fuck, that’s  _ cold! _ ” 

“Yeah, dipshit, why do you think I wasn’t going in?” James said, laughing as Aleks got in up to his knees at the deepest point of the creek, and grinning harder at the glare Aleks sent him.

“I thought you weren’t coming in because you’re a fuckin’  _ pussy _ , and I’m being proven right.” Aleks snapped, waving a hand full of soaked cash at James accusingly. 

“Oh, I see what’s happening here.” James said after a moment, narrowing his eyes and shoving his long sleeves up to his elbows, “It’s fucking  _ on, _ Marchant.”

“Wait, what?” Aleks said, the glare falling from his face, “James, wait, no,” He held his hands up pleadingly and his words were nervous, but a smile was slowly but surely making itself known on his face as he watched James pull off his shoes and roll up his jeans. 

James let out a totally manly squeal as the cold water hit his ankles, and Aleks’ hard laugh spurred James forward until he was also up to his knees, where he cupped his hands in the water and hurled as much water as he could up right into Aleks’ face. Aleks yelled and wiped furiously at his face before whipping back around to send James a  _ scalding _ glare that he just cackled at. 

The next fifteen minutes or so went exactly the direction James expected it to, the two of them pretty much forgetting the money in their haste to soak the other in what is probably horribly polluted river water. Their yells and laughter echoed in the forest out to James’ side, but no more cars passed them by so they didn’t feel the need to quiet down. 

After a time they calmed down, though, salvaging as much of the cash as they could and dumping it back into the bag, deciding they’ll deal with attempting to dry it out later. 

They trekked up the hill, James only slipping a couple times to Aleks’ delight, and once they came up to the guardrail their heads swiveled up and down the street, searching for any police cars.

Finding none, Aleks turned to James and grinned, “Perfect crime?” 

James smiled back, “Tell that to the worm in your hair.” 

Aleks’ eyes bugged out and he yelled, hands flying to his hair while James laughed and hopped over the guardrail and plopped his feet back on the asphalt, “I’m just fuckin’ with you, man.” 

“Not funny!” Aleks cried to James back before following him over the guardrail and across the street. A minute’s walk brought them back to the parking lot of the run-down thrift store and equally run-down strip mall, and more importantly back to their car. 

James walked around the car, hopping into the driver’s seat and shutting the door. Aleks did the same on the passenger’s side, and the immediate quiet after the doors shut stopped them both in their tracks. 

They sat in the silence for a moment before James turned and took stock of Aleks - muddy, sweaty, grass-stained Aleks. James got the same treatment from him, and Aleks broke the silence when he said “We both look like fucking idiots.”

James cracked up in response, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. He looked down at his own jeans, which were absolutely destroyed, caked with mud and damp up to his thighs with river water. His shirt wasn’t much better, his long sleeves rolled up but just as soaked where they rested at his elbows. “We could go find a hotel? Wash up, have a bed to sleep in instead of the car?” He said, fishing the keys out of his pocket and starting the engine. 

Aleks paused, then pulled up Maps on his phone. “Sure,” He said, “but can we get Denny’s or something first?”

James laughed again and kicked the car into gear, “Sounds good.”

\-----

“... You alright?”

The voice interrupted James’ totally mature and rational forty-five minute session of resting his head on the edge of his desk and staring at the floor trying and failing to think his way through the  _ disaster _ that the heist will be. He raised his head, certain there was a stark red spot where his forehead had been pressed into the wood, but at this point he couldn’t give a shit if he tried, and when he slowly turned his chair he was met with none other than  _ Immortal _ . 

Aleks stood a few feet off, with crossed arms and a posture that spoke of his discomfort, and his eyebrows knit just slightly as he took in James’ disheveled clothes and the deep bags under his eyes. 

“What’s up?” James said, deciding not to address his state of disarray, leaning back to slump in his chair. 

Aleks shifted on his feet, “Kootra wanted me to pick out a gun or two for the heist and stakeouts. Said that you could get me into the vault.”

James rose an eyebrow, “You don’t have your own fucking gun?”

“I’m more of a knife kind of guy.” Aleks shot back, not looking affected at all by James’ best Judgmental Gaze. James is gonna have to make use of the other tricks up his sleeve, he supposes. 

James heaved a sigh and pushed himself up out of his chair, walking out the door and down the hall with Aleks at his heels.

The two of them walked through the building in a silence that James was pretty thankful for. Aleks seems like a nice enough guy, as nice as anyone in this business could be, but James still had no clue how exactly to talk with him. James figures he’ll figure it out eventually, ‘s not like there’s any rush. 

James punched in the code, which is damn second nature at this point, and heaved open the door, holding it for Aleks to brush past him with a nod. 

James stayed by the door, letting Aleks wander a little, his gaze floating over the duct taped packages of drugs and art pieces, hidden away by a layer of brown canvas tied over their frames. Aleks reached the shelves of guns, then, and James couldn’t see his face but Aleks went still from the sheer  _ variety _ of weapons, and James smirked. His own favorites were hidden away with the rest of the guns James owned, but he couldn’t deny how fun it could be to have rocket launchers, machine guns, tommy guns, and grenade launchers at his disposal. 

Aleks walked along the shelf, trailing a hand behind him to just barely brush the guns he passed, until he reached the display of pistols. Figures - the knife guys always go for the guns most like their knives - small, lightweight, and maneuverable.

Aleks picked up two, one a dull red and the other a metallic gold, turned and walked the small distance to the metal table James and Seamus had been sitting at just a few days earlier, then turned to grab a third, black pistol and returned to the table.

The chair squealed against the concrete when Aleks pulled it out, and he winced just a little at it. 

James let himself wander about the room while Aleks inspected the guns in front of him, peeking in at their stocks of ammo and creating a mental shopping list for what was getting low. Not that he would be the one to do the shopping, but he would have some fun pestering until the clips were full again. 

“So,” Aleks said, breaking through the quiet of the room and making James turn his head to face him, where he was holding up the red pistol, twisting it this way and that, checking the chamber and barrel, “What do you think of the heist?” 

James felt the iceberg of worry resurface in his stomach, but he contained his reaction as best as he could. James shifted a little on his feet, shuffling them as he brought his arms up to fold across his chest. “It…” He tried, “We could really use more planning time.”

Aleks didn’t still, or even look up at James. “Do tell,” He prompted, and James… honestly wasn’t expecting that. But, he’ll deal. He’s not the crew’s best  _ smooth talker, _ but he knows things would get pretty rough for him if he scared Aleks off the heist.

“Jordan isn’t...” James started, keeping his arms crossed and tapping his fingers against his forearms, “He isn’t seeing the short term. He’s thinking too far ahead, practically overshooting the heist itself in his excitement to get the attention of the Fakes.” 

“You think the Fakes won’t care?” 

“Well, if we fuck up the heist because Jordan and Dan didn’t think something through, then of course the Fakes wont give a shit.” James said, and licks of frustration were growing, clawing their way through James’ stomach and up into his throat.

Aleks brought the nail of his pointer finger up and down the gun, like he was trying to find exactly where the paint on it was thinnest, where it would start to crack first, “The rest of you guys are professionals, you can’t figure it out without Jordan or Dan?” 

“It’s not that simple. Love the guys, but… they’re just a little too apathetic to point something out when it’d be easier to let me do it.” James sighed, digging his nails into his palms at the memory of the heist meeting, “But, when I do I just get shot down.” 

“Well,” Aleks said, locking eyes with James, who was silently fuming from where he stood leaned up against one of the shelves, “That’s a douche move on their part.” He turned back to the guns, setting the red pistol away, probably having found something about it that wasn’t good enough for him. 

“You’re fucking telling me.” James ground out, and  _ God _ there was a part of him that wanted to storm over to Jordan and kick and scream until he got what he wanted, but they would just treat him like a  _ kid  _ again - 

And just like that, all the fight fell out of James like a trap door was sprung. James is nothing if not  _ persistent, _ but someone else’s thick fuckin’ skull is not the hill he wants to die on.

A pause stretched, broken only by the little clicks of Aleks picking up the second gun, the metallic gold. It used to be bright and shiny, but since James last saw it the color had dulled from use.

“So, in that case,” Aleks said, giving this pistol the same treatment as the first, “What are you expecting from the heist? A bloodbath?”

“Hey, just because they like to keep their mouths shut when they shouldn’t doesn’t mean they aren’t good at what they do.” Aleks went still, then fidgeted for a moment, and James softened his tone just a touch when he continued, “If anything, the heist is gonna be a lot of improv. Nothing we haven’t done before, but…” Aleks sat back in his chair a little, holding the gold pistol in one hand and brushing at the third, black pistol with his free hand. “I shouldn’t have to bet on it.” James finished with a sigh.

Aleks nodded, turning his attention back to the gold pistol in his palm, turning it back and forth, but his eye kept drifting to the matte black gun sitting innocently on the table.

James tried to swallow down the churn of frustration and anxiety in the back of his throat, and he crossed the small distance to the table, picking up the black gun from the table and giving it a little toss, testing it’s weight and balance.

“Did Jordan tell you that it’s gonna be you and me on the stakeout, figuring out the guard’s routine?” James said, setting the gun back down on the table with a  _ clang _ as it hit the metal. Aleks jumped just a fraction of an inch, his eyes jumping to the black gun and then back to his hands, and James saw the opportunity for him to tease Aleks about it but something stopped him. 

Aleks reached out, picking up the black pistol with one hand while the other set the gold gun aside, but still in reach.

“No,” He said, fiddling with the black pistol in his palms, almost  _ curiously _ tapping at it with his fingertips, “I was assuming I’d be doing it with him.” 

“Yeah,” James hopped up to sit on the table and crossed his arms, watched as Aleks’ gaze flicked to James arms, then his face, and back to the gun, “Apparently he wants to see how we do as a pair, said we have some good potential from what he saw at that deal when we met.”

Aleks tried and failed to stifle a grin, “That was a fun night.”

James mirrored the smile,  feeling the weight crushing his lungs lift just a little. Aleks’ guard falling was almost visible in his eyes, and that made the weight leave entirely, “Yeah, it sure was.” James said.

He let Aleks keep fiddling with the pistol for a time, the room only filled with the drone of the A/C somewhere and the little _click, clicks_ of the gun being inspected. When Aleks finally let out a tiny sigh, leaned back in the chair and shoved the pistol in his waistband, James spoke, “Well, _Mr._ _Knife Guy,_ ” Aleks shot him an unamused look that James took no heed to, “That gun good enough for ya?”

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” Aleks said, standing from the chair and giving James a tiny, smug smile, “Of course I have my own guns. But, if I tell crews like this that I only have knives, then  _ their _ guns are the only ones getting scratched up, aren’t they?” 

James let out a dramatic gasp, dropping his jaw theatrically and watching with just a little twinge of satisfaction as Aleks grinned wide and huffed a laugh. He patted at his pants where the gun lay underneath the fabric and said with a tone of finality, “This one’ll be good enough.”

“You’re a little shit,” James hissed, smiling as he pushed off the table and they walked out of the vault, feeling lighter than he had the whole damn day. “I like your style.” 

\-----

“You’ve really got a thing for throwing shit at me today, huh?” 

Aleks didn’t acknowledge James’ words, continuing to take the tiny balls of napkin between his fingers and arc them right into James’ glass of water. A tiny smile was on the other’s face, broken only by the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. 

James couldn’t help but grin at Aleks, and took the opportunity his distraction proposed to steal a swig of the other’s soda. As expected, Aleks didn’t notice while he turned his attention to a new napkin, tearing it into tiny, jagged strips. 

They had pulled up onto the cracked pavement of the run-down Denny’s parking lot just before the sunset started, and before they even got out of the car James knew the place was a shithole. Well, as much of a shithole as any Denny’s is. The tables and chairs were stained and creaked if you breathed at them, but James was appreciative of the soft yellow light from the dim light bulbs above, as opposed to the fluorescence of the 7/11 that James could  _ feel _ giving him a migraine. 

“The wait staff keeps staring at us,” Aleks said, not looking up at James but sending a pointed glance to his left, out into the rest of the restaurant where, sure enough, two employees stood behind the counter, poorly hiding how they were murmuring about James and Aleks. 

“I wonder why.” James said, then reached up and ruffled Aleks’ hair, causing two tiny clumps of mud to fall from his locs, one landing square on the table and the other coming to rest on Aleks’ shoulder. 

Aleks’ face screwed up tight at that, and he roughly brushed the clump off his shoulder and then flicked the dirt on the table towards James. 

“They don’t gotta make it so obvious, though.” He said, his mouth still twisted in disgust as he went back to tearing up the napkin in front of him. 

James let a pause stretch, watched how Aleks used the tips of his fingers to fold and then rip the napkin into roughly equal strips, watched how the liquid in the glasses atop the table shook just barely noticably, and James couldn’t see Aleks’ legs through the booth table but he knew then that one or both of them would be bouncing like a jackhammer. 

“You nervous?” James said, knowing from past experience to say it gently, but casual. Aleks was nothing if not  _ picky - _ not that James could really be one to talk, but still. 

Aleks let out an explosive sigh and his fingers stilled halfway through tearing a strip, but he didn’t look up from the fake wood of the table and the water in James’ glass didn’t stop quaking. 

James let Aleks sit, let the other’s eyes dart about the table for a minute as he chewed on his words. The restaurant was quiet, amplified by the fact that their booth was nestled in the back corner of the room, and a window to James’ left let the slowly dimming sky stream across their table, cast shadows from their glasses that reached the floor. 

James let out a quiet sigh and leaned back into the rough upholstery of the booth, and the leather of the seat creaked with the motion. 

Aleks’ eyebrows were pushed tightly together, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was interrupted by the waitress, who slid two plates of steaming pancakes in front of the both of them. They let out a pair of instinctive  _ thank you _ ’s, and started eating. The waitress turned away without a word, simply a tight smile plastered on her face that James ignored the implications of. He knows they’re a mess, he doesn’t need other people to point it out. 

“We, uh,” Aleks said finally, passing James the tiny pitcher of maple syrup, “We kinda just did the one thing we said we weren’t gonna do anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.” James said easily, shoving a huge bite of pancake in his mouth that Aleks cringed a little at.

“I just,” Aleks started, cutting himself off with a hum, “Are we,” He cut himself off again, waving his hands vaguely towards himself and then James as if he could pick the words he needed out of the air, “Are we gonna start doing all that shit again?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” James shrugged, looking at Aleks evenly across the table. 

“Do  _ you _ want to?” Aleks said immediately, matching James’ stare.

“I mean,” James started, “Maybe crime and stuff is all I know.” He paused and thought hard for a moment before he corrected himself, “Honestly, crime and stuff is all I know. But if we’re gonna be doing this together, I’m willing to learn some new tricks if you are, too.” They continued looking at each other, and Aleks stared into James’ eyes as if he was looking for something. He must have found what he wanted, because his eyes softened a touch before he spoke.

“... Alright,” Aleks said, nodding absentmindedly and turning his attention to the food in front of him, “I can work with that.” He added, and James huffed a laugh in response.

The waitresses didn’t stop sending quick glances their way all through the dinner rush, and James and Aleks kept in their seats long after their food and the sun outside was gone. They did what they did best, shoot the shit. James figured they should give the staff a  _ real _ reason to want to kick the two out, so their laughter stretched across the building and James’ own little paper balls joined Aleks’ scattered across the table. 

Their clothes were practically dry by the time they started winding down, and James noticed right before he slapped down a damp handful of bills for a tip that the glasses atop the table had been still for the last hour. 

Aleks gave James a tired but bright grin that James mirrored, and they strode out of the Denny’s side by side. 

It occured to James, then, that to an outside eye the wait staff in that restaurant had dodged a literal bullet. The creatures had done a hell a lot more than raze a fucking  _ Denny’s _ in their prime, and there two of the heavy hitters were, sat at a booth eating pancakes while the staff were none the wiser. 

Maybe there was some satisfaction, there. In the notion that James and Aleks were notoriously dangerous, but on their own terms. 

When James plopped into the driver's seat and pulled the gun out of his waistband to push into the glovebox while Aleks did the same with a pair of knives in the passenger seat, James decided that... Yeah. There’s some satisfaction, there.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda wanted this fic to be angsty but shit man i have too much fun writing these two dickin around like assholes. rip me i guess
> 
> im @jamesmarchant on tumblr, come say hi!  
> hope you enjoyed <3


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